


Licorice and Coffee

by PastelGreywaren



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Pete is actually a sweetheart, Succubi & Incubi, incubus!patrick, not sure what else to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 20:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4639455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelGreywaren/pseuds/PastelGreywaren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patrick was starving. Being an incubus was hard, especially when you didn't have a source of energy to feed off of. </p>
<p>———</p>
<p>"You've seriously gotta do something about this."</p>
<p>"I did," Patrick mumbled back, "Didn't work."</p>
<p>Pete didn't hesitate before replying, "Let me help."</p>
<p>Patrick shook his head immediately. "No. Not this time."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Licorice and Coffee

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again! So, I hope you enjoy! I'm so sorry about not updating Give Me Love, but it should be up in the next few days. Thanks so much!!

Patrick was starving. Being an incubus was hard, especially when you didn't have a source of energy to feed off of. Sure, he could feed off of his own orgasms, but there wasn't much food value there for him. It was much more effective when he got to feed off of someone else's, but that was exactly his problem. He didn't have anyone else. Well, he had Pete, but they agreed to take their relationship slow. It had been at least four months since they officially got together, and around three years since they met. Patrick wasn't going to rush it, even in his current state. 

But, a hungry incubus is always a horny incubus, so Patrick was in a bit of a rut. He was tempted to rent a hotel room for the night and let Pete stay in the house, but then he'd get interrogated by Pete, then Pete would offer (for the thousandth time) to help him, and Patrick would refuse like every other time.  
He was afraid he wouldn't be able to refuse this time. He didn't want their first time to happen just because he was a little hungry and Pete felt pressured into helping him. 

So here he was, sitting on the bed in a thin t-shirt and a pair of running shorts (because another drawback of his current situation was feeling like he was on the inside of Mount Vesuvius). Patrick had nearly every fan in the house plugged in and pointed at his form sprawled out miserably on the bed. He was achingly hungry, and achingly hard, but he'd already gotten off today. It helped a little, but not tremendously, but he'd been too spent afterwards to do anything else. He briefly wondered if Pete had any toys stashed around the house (they were usually sufficient enough in times of need) when the sound of the door opening reached his ears. He wasn't quite motivated enough to turn off the fans, but he did attempt to conceal his lower half with a sheet from the bed. 

"'Trick?" 

Patrick hadn't even heard his footsteps approach the room.

"What's all- oh."

Patrick turned his head to look at Pete, who was leaning against the doorway. 

"Again?"

Patrick shrugged one shoulder, turning away from Pete once more. A few moments later, he felt the bed dip down beside him and a cool hand rest on his forehead.

"Dude, you're burning up," Pete said, concern obvious in his voice. "You've seriously gotta do something about this."

"I did," Patrick mumbled back, "Didn't work."

Pete didn't hesitate before replying, "Let me help."

Patrick shook his head immediately. "No. Not this time."

Pete sighed in exasperation, kicking his shoes off and swinging his legs over the bed. "Pat, you say that every time. Let me help. I promise you'll feel better."

"I know I will, but my answer is still no," he said resolutely.

"But I want to."

"I'm not letting you get pittied into sex with me."

"You're not pittying me, I want this. I want you, Patrick. And I have for a while," Pete said, dragging a hand down his face as if he were frustrated.  
"Just let me do this for you."

Patrick chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully. His body was screaming "just let him do it", and his mind was treading into similar territory. Finally, his resolve crumbled and he gave in.

"... Okay. But we can stop if you change your mind."

Pete laughed a little at this as he adjusted his position and threw the sheet away from Patrick's body. 

"Like I'd ever change my mind about this," he said with a vague gesture to Patrick. His cheeks flushed as Pete crawled over and straddled Patrick's lap, sitting just above where Patrick needed him to be. He shifted his hips a bit in an effort to get more friction, but Pete didn't give him the satisfaction. 

Pete moved back until he was sitting on Patrick's thighs, staring down at the bulge in his shorts. Of course, the bastard licked his lips and Patrick accidentally let a strangled whimper slip. 

Pete toyed with the waistband of Patrick's shorts, letting the elastic snap back against his skin. He then slowly tugged his pants and his briefs down over his hips, waiting for Patrick's approval before he went further. When he nodded frantically, Pete rid the two items in one fell swoop, discarding them on the floor. 

Patrick's cock was flushed and bobbing against his stomach, already weeping a bit. Patrick bit his lip and averted his eyes as Pete's gaze roamed over him. He briefly considered tugging his shirt down to cover himself, but those thoughts vanished once Pete had a hand wrapped around him. He gave a few dry pumps, then pulled back to take his own shirt off. Patrick whimpered at the loss of contact, but Pete silenced him by beginning to unbutton his pants, lifting his hips enough to peel them off and toss them down with the rest of Patrick's clothes.

Patrick swallowed thickly, his eyes drawn to Pete's tattoos. His gaze finally flicked up to Pete's face, and he found that the other had been watching him. Patrick reached up to pull him down for a kiss, connecting their lips softly. Pete pulled away for a moment to pull Patrick's shirt over his head, then they were finally both bare. 

"God, you're fucking perfect," Pete murmured, running his fingertips along Patrick's sides. He squirmed a bit when it began to tickle, then pecked Pete's lips once more.

Pete latched onto his neck, first kissing, then sucking, and finally biting softly. Patrick tilted his head to give Pete more access to his skin, and the other moved down to his collarbone, then is chest. He swirled his tongue around one nipple and pinched the other lightly, startling a moan out of Patrick. He then continued moving down, pressing kisses to his belly, then crawled back up to press a final kiss to his lips.

"Lube?" He asked a bit breathlessly. 

Patrick couldn't quite get his mouth to form words, so he waved a hand towards the bathroom. Pete seemed disheartened that he had to get up, and Patrick wasn't too keen on the idea either. But he had to admit, it was funny seeing Pete sprint naked into the bathroom and shuffle around in the drawers. He came back shortly with a little tube, already unscrewing the cap as he climbed back into bed and settled between Patrick's legs. Patrick watched as Pete squeezed a generous amount onto his fingers, then set the bottle aside.

"Is this okay? You still wanna do this?" Pete asked before he began, and Patrick nodded quickly in response.

"Y-yeah. As long as you do, too."

Pete nodded back and used his free hand to lift Patrick's leg a bit. He then traced around his entrance, teasing a bit and earning a gasp from Patrick, then finally pushed one finger in.

It was odd, Patrick had to admit. He'd done this before, but it was a long time ago and he didn't quite remember how it was supposed to feel. It wasn't bad, per se, but it was unusual. Pete pressed another finger in and Patrick hissed a bit, causing Pete to freeze and stare at him worriedly.

"Keep— keep going, please," he murmured, and Pete complied. He scissored and moved his digits in and out, and Patrick could feel his fingers crooking occasionally. It was actually beginning to feel kind of nice.

Pete then added a third finger and pressed in as far as he could, crooking his fingers in just the right way. The brushed against Patrick's prostate and /damn, that felt good/. He moaned louder than he meant to, scrabbling at the sheets below him. Pete grinned and hit that spot over and over until Patrick was red faced and panting. He then pulled his fingers out, Patrick whining from the loss, and began to prep himself with more lube. Patrick decided he didn't like the feeling of being so empty. If Pete's fingers had gotten that kind of reaction out of him, imagine...

Pete was biting his lip as he gently raised Patrick's legs and let them rest on his hips. Patrick swallowed thickly and hooked his ankles behind Pete's back, then met Pete's gaze when he grabbed Patrick's hips.

"We're really doing this," Patrick whispered. Pete smiled, his eyes warm with both love and lust.

"Yeah... We are. You ready?"

Patrick licked his lips and lifted his hips as an answer, watching Pete expectantly. He then felt something big and blunt against his entrance; way bigger than the fingers. He was nearly buzzing with excitement.

Pete pushed in little by little, and Patrick squeezed his eyes shut and fisted his hands into the covers beside his head. Finally, Pete was in to the hilt, cursing under his breath.  
Patrick felt so /full/. All he could focus on was the feeling of Pete inside him, fitting into him like a puzzle piece. 

"You okay?" Pete panted as he brushed a lock of hair from Patrick's forehead.

"Mhmm," he mumbled back, "Just— just give me a second to adjust."

Pete waited patiently as Patrick breathed deeply for a few moments, wiggling his hips now and then to get used to the feeling.

"You can move. Please," he finally said, biting his lip as Pete began to thrust slowly, gently. Patrick whined a bit, breathing out, "More..."

Pete picked up the pace, thrusting rhythmically after a few moments. He occasionally panted out Patrick's name, which had to be one of the hottest things he's ever heard. 

"P-Pete, fuck... More," he panted breathlessly.

"God, y-you're so fucking hot," Pete replied, pushing Patrick's knees further towards his chest and thrusting harder, skin slapping skin. Patrick arched his back, keening as Pete slammed into his prostate, and he so wanted to pull Pete down for a filthy kiss. As if reading his mind, Pete dipped down and kissed him, open mouthed and hot. Patrick placed his hands on Pete's shoulders and dug his nails into the skin when Pete pulled almost all the way out, then thrusted back in to the hilt. Patrick threw his head back and chanted Pete's name, his toes curling with pleasure. 

They both worked in rhythm now, Pete slamming into him and Patrick "ah, ah, ah"ing with each thrust. 

"T-touch me," Patrick gasped, his chest now flushed and slick with sweat, glistening. 

"Shit, yeah," Pete mumbled back, reaching for Patrick's dick. He timed his thrusts to match the pumps, and Patrick was reduced to a blabbering mess, squirming and moaning and panting under him.

"P-Pete, I'm— I'm close," he stuttered out, heat pooling low in his belly. 

Pete lowered his head and whispered, "Come for me, babe," and that was it. Patrick cried out, dragging his nails down Pete's back and leaving angry red scratches. He tightened around Pete, and he was almost pushed over the edge. He was moving to pull out to finish himself off when Patrick shook his head and wrapped a hand around his wrist. 

"Don't. I'll g-get more out of it, please," He urged, not caring in the least if he sounded whiny. His hunger was much less severe than earlier, and this was just what he needed to finish it off.

Pete cursed under his breath and gave a few final thrusts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Patrick's hips, and finally climaxed. He groaned out Patrick's name, his chest heaving, and caught his breath before pulling out.

Patrick winced at the empty feeling, but was almost too out of it to linger on it. He felt as if he had just finished a huge meal (which, technically, he had). Pete's energy tasted of black licorice and overly-sweet coffee, but Patrick loved it. He was getting tired of his own strawberry-and-vanilla-ice-cream flavor. 

Pete stumbled to the bathroom and grabbed a box of tissues from the cabinet, coming back to clean them both up. 

"You're so beautiful like that, 'Trick," Pete said with a grin, tugging a tissue from the box and wiping the fluid from Patrick's chest and stomach. 

"You're not too bad yourself," Patrick managed to get out with a steady voice.

"I'm hot, admit it," Pete laughed and held another tissue to Patrick's thighs, where a tiny bit of come was rolling down his skin. Patrick grabbed a tissue and lazily cleaned off Pete's cock, making him shudder.

"Hey, hey, quit it," Pete chuckled, flicking Patrick's knuckles. "I can't get it back up that fast."

Patrick hummed, smiling to himself, and sat up, then leaned against the headboard. 

"You're not still hungry, are you? I mean, I could make some exceptions for you-" Pete began, only half joking. Patrick groaned and shook his head.

"No, no, I'm good. That was almost too much. 'M full."

Pete nodded in understanding and pressed his lips to Patrick's cheek, crawling under the covers and kicking the tissues into the floor. Patrick gave him a pointed look and Pete waved a hand dismissively.

"I'll get 'em later. I'm tired."

Patrick laughed softly and slipped under the covers with him, curling up to his side. Finally satisfied, he dozed off quickly, Pete following suit.


End file.
